Friday, June 13, 2014

There's a contest where gay men compete to become Mr. Gay Europe, and a UK man named Stuart Hatton Jr. is in the race this year. He recently discovered something hugely flattering in his own small town in the UK. They put up a roadside message supporting him.

‘I'M OVERWHELMED!’ wrote Hatton Jr. ‘The road signs in my home town of South Shields say 'VOTE STUART HATTON'. Oh my goodness you have no idea how I'm feeling right now. It's amazing. Thanks South Tyneside. Wish I was there to see it. Greetings from Austria. Voting closes tomorrow.’ You can read more here. There's a photo of Hatton, too.

Cat Cafes in Europe

Who would have thought that Cat Cafes would ever become popular. May she rest in peace, our cat who lived to be 18 years old would have loved this. I can just hear the hisses and growls now. And, it seems there are long waiting lists to get into these places.

Finding it very difficult to avoid feline puns, we combed through a selection of Europe’s most popular cat cafes for some do’s and don’ts. We were unable to visit, as many have waiting lists up to two months! But don't let that deter you from getting some face time with these furry friendlies.

There's a film out that's being touted as a French gay thriller that mentions the dangers involved with gay cruising. It's titled, Stranger by the Lake, and it won the Queer Palm award.

The film is a mix of beach sunsets, steamy encounters and brutal murders by renowned ‘bad boy’ of French cinema, director Alain Guiraudie, who won the award for Best Director at Cannes.

There's more here, with photos and clips. I think it look interesting. The problem is figuring out how to actually see it. We used to have a very progressive video store in New Hope, for years. But like all video stores they shuttered a few years ago and it's not easy to get access to films like this as quickly as it used to be. I doubt I'll see this one on Verizon on demand.

FREE Gay Excerpt Four Gay Weddings and a Funeral by Ryan Field

This is an excerpt from my book, Four Gay Weddings and a Funeral. It's a gay parody very loosely based on the movie Four Weddings and a Funeral. It's not fanfic. I'm not a fan of the film or the way it was done. It's a sexy, erotic, satiric, and at times emotional take on a classic storyline done for gay people and those who like to read about gay people.

This is the unedited raw version because HTML doesn't like converting PDF. But the content of the pubbed version is the same.

When the weight lifter left, Neil
was struggling with the pants on his rented tuxedo. His hands were moving so
fast he couldn’t get the suspenders on. His white shirt was still sticking out
of his pants and he hadn’t even bothered with underwear. The weight lifter
slapped his ass and said, “Maybe we’ll see each other around sometime. I had
fun.”

Neil
fastened one of the suspenders to his pants and laughed. It was all so casual
and pointless. His life had come down to nothing more than having sex with
strange men and going to weddings. If he’d had the time that morning, he might
have sat down and wondered what was wrong. But he smiled and said, “I had fun,
too. Sorry I was in such a rush this morning. See you around, man.” He knew
he’d probably never see him again and he was fine with this. It wasn’t the
first time and wouldn’t be the last.

A
few minutes after that, Neil grabbed his car keys and wallet and met Thai on
the front steps. “How do I look?”

She
reached up and adjusted his tie. “You look gorgeous as usual,” she said. “No
one would even know you just climbed out of bed with another JerseyShore
guy.

He
laughed. His friends often teased him about his taste in men. They almost
always looked the same…big, hot, and not too bright. Neil had a thing for macho
types with dark hair. And they weren’t always that easy to find. “He bought me
a drink last night. He was a nice guy.”

“I’m
sure he was,” Thai said. “How do I look?”

She was wearing a
hideous yellow bridesmaid’s dress with a big white flower on the sash and a
huge bow at the base of her spine. Thai had never been able to lose that punk
rock-emo look from high school. And she now worked in the garment district
where the dress code was loose enough to wear anything. Her bright red spiked
hair and silver gothic jewelry looked so out of place with that tasteless
yellow dress it caused a pull in Neil’s stomach. The long black fingernails
didn’t help. But he smiled and said, “You look beautiful for someone who just
woke up.”

She punched him in
the chest. “I look like Little Bo Peep on fucking LSD and you know it. I’d like
to know what happened to that stereo type that says all gay men are tasteful
and know fashion. Because these piss yellow bridesmaid’s dresses that Kevin and
Larsen chose are worse than what I wore for my cousin Tina’s wedding in New Jersey. And they
were fucking lavender.”

Neil would have agreed
with her if there’d been time. But it was pushing eleven o’clock and they were originally supposed to be in Sag Harbor by noon
to make sure everything went smoothly. As it stood now, barring any major
complications on the road, they’d get there just in time for the wedding to
start. So he grabbed her by the arm and led her down the stairs. They walked so
fast to Neil’s parking garage they almost ran. Thankfully, it was a cool
morning in May and they didn’t have to worry
about sweating. In August, this would have been a nightmare. But when they
climbed into Neil’s black Jeep Wrangler and the motor wouldn’t turn over,
Neil’s stomach jumped sideways.

“What’s wrong?”
Thai asked. “Are you out of gas?”

Neil tried to
start the Jeep again and all he heard was a soft ticking sound. “I think the
battery is dead.”

“This is a new
car,” Thai said. “You just bought it last September.”

Neil shrugged. “I
guess I left the lights on again.” He’d done this twice in the past month. He
didn’t drive often in the city, but he liked having a car in New York so he could get out of town on
weekends and visit friends in Long Island and Pennsylvania. He opened
his door and said, “We’d better take your car.”

“Are you serious?”
Thai asked. “I haven’t driven that car in a month. We’ll look like a couple of
fucking idiots.”

Thai liked keeping
a car in New York,
too. But only because she’d inherited it from her grandmother and couldn’t part
with it. It was a white l985 Cadillac Eldorado, with spiked chrome wheels and
one of those exaggerated spare tire compartments on the trunk lid. People
teased her about it all the time, partly because the car was falling apart and
partly because it looked like the kind of car a pimp would have driven in l985.

Neil climbed out
of the Jeep and shrugged. “We don’t have much of a choice. A taxi would cost a
fortune.”

So they crossed
the street and ran three blocks down to the cheaper outdoor garage where Thai
parked the Eldorado. Neil took the keys from her hand and they climbed inside
and put on their seatbelts. The car didn’t start on the first try. It didn’t
start on the second either. But when he turned the key a third time the old
motor came to life with a deep growl and he slipped it into gear.

For an old car,
this one had more power than Neil’s brand new Jeep. When he made a right turn,
he heard a strange growl coming from the rear end. The entire car jerked and
lunged a few times before they got onto the LIE, and the brakes squeaked and
squealed every time he had to stop at a traffic light. But traffic wasn’t too
heavy on the LIE and Neil reached Sag Harbor
in record breaking time. Of course he had to drive on the shoulder a few times.
And he had to weave in and out of traffic so often people flipped him the bird
every five minutes. But he pulled up to the church just as the groom was
getting out of the limousine and parked sideways between a black Bentley and a navy
blue Jaguar. Thai said she would have parked that car behind the church where
no one could see it. But Neil said they were too late to care about what anyone
thought.

Kevin and Larson
were one of those gay couples where the lines were clearly drawn. Kevin had the
tool kit and he fixed the toaster. Larson had the cookware and he made the made
the toast. And they never mixed things up. Kevin worked in the athletic
department where he and Neil had gone to college. And Larson was part owner of
a small floral boutique in the WestVillage. Kevin wore plaid
shirts and lumbered down the sidewalk with heavy strides; Larson wore pale
cotton prints and was so light on his feet it often looked as if they weren’t
even touching the sidewalk. It was no surprise to Neil that Larson wore the
pure white tuxedo that day and that he was the one walking down the aisle,
holding a massive bouquet of white roses with rainbow streamers that fell to
his knees.

Neil and Thai
unfolded from the car and Thai asked Neil to zip up her dress. Then they jogged
up to the limousine just as Larson’s mother and father were getting out. Craig
and Luke, two more good friends, were already there to greet Larson. Craig and
Luke had been together for a long time. Though Craig was fifteen years older
than Luke and he had the silver hair and paunch to prove it, they balanced each
other so well Neil often thought of them as the most perfect couple he knew,
gay or straight. And whether they were legally married or not, Neil would
always think of them as the perfect couple.

Neil noticed that
Larson’s white groom’s tuxedo was a little too tight around his full waist and
his hair had been styled with a little too much product. It looked too stiff
and shiny. And he’d had it styled in that new, trendy way, where the hair on
top of his head gathered to form a point that reminded Neil of a Mohawk. This
was a huge mistake in Neil’s opinion. The only men who could pull off a
hair style like that well were flawless male models, not floral designers who
were twenty-five pounds overweight. But try telling that to a gay man on the
morning of his wedding after he’d spent a small fortune getting botox injections.
And the white bouquet of roses Larson held made Neil wince for a second. If
Neil were getting married, which he had no intention of doing any time soon, he
wouldn’t have done things this way. But he’d learned a long time ago to keep
his mouth shut when it came to weddings.

As usual, Larson
was so nervous his hands were shaking, which made the streamers on the bouquet
dangle like strands of wilted spaghetti. Neil overheard Larson asking people if
he looked fat and the people were sending him reassuring smiles and telling him
he’d never look better in his life. When Larson asked Craig if his hairstyle
was too trendy, Craig smiled and said, “You have the face for it, sweetie.”
Then Craig glanced at Neil and rolled his eyes. Neil wasn’t certain of this, because
he was closer to Kevin than Larson, but he had a feeling the stocky woman in
the light blue frilly affair was Larson’s mother. All Larson needed was a
matching pill box hat and some lipstick and he could have been her twin sister.

When Larson saw Neil
and Thai red-faced and out of breath, he pressed his palm to his chest and
said, “Why aren’t you up there with Kevin, Neil? You’re supposed to be waiting
for me. You’re the best man. I can’t believe you’re late.” Then he threw
his arms up over his head and Luke jumped in and started to pat his back to
calm him down.

Neil didn’t stop
to talk. He didn’t want Larson asking him any dumb questions. Besides, Larson’s
voice was filled with panic and Neil didn’t want to upset him. He just grabbed
Larson’s arms and said, “You look gorgeous. Great hair. I’ll see you inside.”
Then Neil left Thai with the other bridesmaid’s and ran into the church to
stand at the alter next to Kevin.

On his way in,
Neil spotted two more good friends sitting at the back of the church, Portia, a
tall elegant young woman with straight blond hair who worked in publishing, and
Mark, an extremely good looking guy who worked with Neil in the same school
teaching the hearing impaired. Mark looked like the actor, Matt Damon, and was almost
completely deaf. Neil greeted Mark by signing with his hands. He hugged and
kissed Portia on the cheek and complimented her flamboyant black hat. It was an
elaborate, wide-brimmed affair with a leopard ribbon. Way too much for most
women. She looked more like she was going on a Greek cruise than a wedding on Long Island. All she needed were big dark sunglasses and
a long cigarette holder to finish the outfit. But this is one of the reasons
why she always had so many gay friends, especially gay men. For some of them,
Portia was the drag queen they’d always wanted to be.

By the time Neil reached the alter, Kevin was
talking to two other guys in the wedding party. When he glanced back over his
shoulder and saw Neil approaching, he sighed with relief and said, “I was just
about to get another best man. What happened to you?”

“I’m sorry, man,”
Neil said. “We hit traffic.” He couldn’t say he’d overslept in the arms of a
well hung weight lifter from Brooklyn. He
couldn’t tell his best friend the backs of his legs were still sore from
getting fucked so many times the night before by this weight lifter from Brooklyn.

Kevin took a
closer look at him. He fixed his tie and said, “Why are your lips all swollen?”

“Allergic reaction
to a peanut I ate this morning,” Neil said. “I’ll live.” He’d never been
allergic to anything in his life. He’d been hearing a lot about peanut
allergies lately with the kids at his school. He couldn’t tell Kevin his lips
were still swollen because he’d been sucking the weight lifter’s cock all
night. Being allergic to peanuts seemed plausible.

The two other guys
hugged Neil and went to the back of the church. Neil knew one of them was
related to Larson. But he wasn’t sure where the other guy had come from. He’d
learned that weddings were like this. They huddled people who didn’t know each
other together for one day and then he wouldn’t see them again until the next
wedding.

When Kevin and
Neil sat down in the first row, Kevin asked, “How is Larson holding up?”

Neil laughed. “You
don’t want to know.”

“I was afraid of
that,” Kevin said. “He’s been so high strung about this wedding.” There were
beads of perspiration around Kevin’s temples and his face was bright red. He
didn’t seem to be holding up too well either. “I told him we should have just
gone down to city hall and kept it simple. But not Larson. He wanted a huge
wedding and he wanted it to be in a gay church. He said it was the most
important day of his life and he wanted the wedding he’d always dreamed about
as a child.”

While Kevin was
rambling on about the frustrations associated with weddings, Neil glanced back
over his shoulder to see what was happening and he noticed a tall man with
medium blond hair walk into the church. The man wore a light gray suit and he
held his head higher than everyone else around him. Neil turned around and
said, “These people who just waltz into weddings late irritate me beyond
words.”

Kevin sent him a
glare and blinked. Then the organist began to play Here Comes the Bride
and Neil rolled his eyes. Even Cannon in D, though a cliché by now, would have
been a better choice for a gay wedding. When the guests stood up and turned
around, Larson was standing at the back of the church with his father. Thankfully,
Larson had forgone the white veil and the white peau de soie pumps. Other than
that, Larson wanted to follow tradition right down to the last letter, which
included having his father give him away. Neil wasn’t so sure about this
either. Even though Neil’s parents were dead, Neil would have done it differently
if they’d been alive. Does anyone really need to be given away after the age of
twenty-one?

When Larson and
his father began to slowly walk down the aisle, keeping with the beat of the
organist, Kevin leaned into Neil’s side and whispered, “You have the rings,
don’t you?”

Neil felt a wave
of panic rush through his body. But he smiled, patted his pocket, and said, “Right
here in my pocket. No problems, buddy.”

Kevin wiped a drop
of perspiration from his brow. “Well that’s a huge relief.”

Neil continued to
smile. But his face grew hot and his heart started beating faster. When he’d
patted his pocket, there was nothing there. And then he remembered he’d left
the rings in the glove compartment of his Jeep the day before, knowing they
would be safe there in case he forgot to bring them. He never did things like
this. He was always responsible and dependable. Neil bit his bottom lip and
glanced back and saw that Larson was now in the middle of the aisle, smiling
and nodding at guests he passed along the way. If Larson hadn’t been holding
the bouquet, Neil had a feeling he might have been sending people the Queen of
England’s wave.

Neil gulped and
swallowed. Thai and the other two bridesmaids were right behind Larson and they
seemed to be gaining momentum. He had no idea what he was going to do about the
rings. This was the kind of thing that could send Larson into a full fledged
panic. He might even pass out right there at the alter and ruin the wedding.
Neil wasn’t wearing any jewelry himself that day so he couldn’t even offer a
ring of his own. Neil had to come up with something fast, otherwise Kevin would
never forgive him for ruining his wedding day.

Second Chance: The Complete Series

About Me

Ryan
@ryanfield
Hybrid author of over 100 published modern romance novels and stories, including AN OFFICER AND HIS GENTLEMAN, FANGSTERS, THE RAINBOW DETECTIVE AGENCY and best selling VIRGIN BILLIONAIRE SERIES. (The profile photo isn't very good, but it's really me and it's recent from 2017. I'm not supposed to be a photographer. )
RfieldJ@aol.com

Second Chance: His Only Choice

Second Chance: The Sweetest Apple

Cowboy Christmas Miracle Glendora Hill Series

The Littlest Christmas Tree

Book 2 Second Chance Series

Best Seller on Allromanceebooks.com

Bad Boy Billionaire: The Actor Learning to Love

I won't give out any spoilers, but this is the first time I've ever worked the attacks on the World Trade Center into a novel (you can see the twin towers in the background on the cover)...it's also the first time I've ever written a strong lesbian theme into the subplot.

The Women Who Love to Love Gay Romance

An Anthology with Ryan Field Press, release date August 30, 2013...links to follow soon.

Fangsters: Clan of the Jersey Boys

At a glance, Anton Pagano looks and sounds just like any other twenty-something. He lives in a mansion in northern New Jersey with his mom and dad, and he's never had to worry about anything other than his wardrobe, his latest new car, and the secret love affair he's been having for years. However, Anton has more than just the love affair to hide: he belongs to a Sicilian vampire mobster clan that migrated to New Jersey in the late 1800s.

The Wall Street Shark

Third installment of the Bad Boy Billionaire series.

Note to All Readers...

I welcome all comments and e-mails from readers of this blog or readers of my books.

All comments on this blog are treated with absolute discretion and all anonymous comments will remain private at all times. All reader e-mails sent to me in private will also be treated with discretion and will never, NEVER, be reprinted or reposted anywhere in public by me unless I get permission, in writing, from the reader. In other words, your privacy will always be respected.

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That Cowboy in the Window

Erotic Gay Romance with a twist.

Chase of a Dream

In this 59,000 word unabridged version of the sequel to "Chase of a Lifetime" that contains all of the original erotic scenes, Jim Darling finally finds the happiness he's been chasing for so long. He and Len Mayfield have settled into a quiet routine in their small newly renovated home in the Hollywood Hills, and they enjoy every minute they spend together raising Len's toddler grandson, Culum Mayfied.

An Officer and His Gentleman

Alyson Books

Ravenous Romance

all romance ebooks

Cleis Press

Pretty Man

Unlike most stories, where the rich and powerful husband dumps the hard working, devoted life partner for someone younger, this one takes a turn in the opposite direction when the rich husband is the one to get dumped. But with young Josh's help, Roland learns in less than a week's time that his future can still hold both earth-shattering sex and a love of real substance.

Whatever, Dude

When a young professional is mistaken for a hooker, the outcome is always shocking.

Disclaimer

I don't post photos or images here unless I'm certain they fall under the guidelines of fair use or public domain. But this blog has been around for a while and even though I've triple checked previous posts for photos and taken down anything questionable, I might have missed something and my intention was not to infringe on anyone's rights. I will continue to update, and all photos I post now will provide attribution of some kind. If not, they are believed to be in the public domain.